Teasing and Tweed
by donutsweeper
Summary: Two old friends meet in a bar.


Jack felt eyes on him, not a particularly unusual or unwelcome occurrence, especially at a bar like this one, but there was something about the perusal that felt different, more intense. Almost an examination. He slowly raised his head under the guise of taking a drink and let his gaze roam over the crowd. There. Young. Goofy smile. Floppy hair. Oh, for the love of...

Raising his glass in a salute of recognition he waited for the Doctor to approach.

"A bow tie?" Jack hadn't meant to blurt it out like that but, seriously, a bow tie?

"Hello, Jack." A smile lit up his face, making the Doctor look even younger, which Jack wouldn't have considered possible. "I wasn't sure you'd recognize me."

"Why? Because you look like you're all of _twelve?_ " The words burst out of Jack's mouth along with a low chuckle that he tried to hide with a cough; but the misdirection was unsuccessful, judging by the Doctor's slightly raised eyebrow and quirk to his lips that looked like he was trying to hide a grin of his own.

"I was thinking more along the lines of my regeneration in general. Especially without the TARDIS handy for identification purposes, to give it away as you once said to me," the Doctor clarified.

Jack harumphed. "Like I couldn't recognize you anywhere with any face by now. You have far too many tells to be able to hide from me, Doctor. Although," Jack grinned, "I have to say, I'd never expected you to go with... what are you calling this look? Stodgy professor? Trying to be like Harrison Ford in the first Indiana Jones movie, are you?"

"What's wrong with bow ties?" The Doctor ran his fingers along his tie, straightening it. "I happen to like bow ties. And tweed."

"Of course you do." Jack knew the man had demonstrated questionable taste in clothing before, but only from seeing pictures of the sartorial nightmares; being face to face with such… attire was another matter entirely.

"Although," he added as his gaze swept over the Doctor, taking in the entirety of his outfit. "I have to say, you actually made a good choice in footwear this time around. Those look like they'd be good for running. You still do a lot of that, I assume?"

"It's not as if I _plan _to do so. It's just something, that I wind up doing, when the occasion calls for it," the Doctor said, giving Jack a half-hearted _'what can I do, it's never my fault'_ kind of shrug.

"I'll take that as a yes," Jack said, leaning over and giving the Doctor's hair a little fluff. "You're so cute when you stammer with righteous indignation."

"I am _not _cute!" the Doctor exclaimed loudly, straightening his shoulders and stiffening his spine.

"Awww, and with that pout? You're adorable. Utterly adorable." Jack cupped the Doctor's cheek with the palm of his hand and gave it a light pat.

_"Jaaaack."_

Sensing the Doctor was reaching the end of his patience, Jack relented, changing the topic, "Buy you a drink?"

As if seizing the opportunity to end the ribbing the Doctor responded with a quick, "I've got this round." He gestured to the bartender to refill Jack's glass and nodded at his own as well.

They sipped their drinks in a comfortable silence for a while, just relishing each other's company, but Jack couldn't help continuing to sneak looks at the Doctor. "It's completely unfair you know," he finally said, with a bit of a sigh.

"What is?" the Doctor asked, in that tone of his that implied he knew exactly what the answer was but that he wanted Jack to explain it anyway.

"You. Getting younger." Jack ran a finger along his temple, along the slight wrinkles that were starting to show.

The Doctor leaned over slightly, elbowing Jack in the side. "I'm not, you know. Not really. Appearances aren't everything. You, of all people, should know that."

Jack held up his hands in mock surrender.

"This calls for a toast, I should think, before you dig yourself in any deeper." The Doctor held up his nearly empty glass and cleared his throat. _"Time is an illusion,"_ he began solemnly, before giving Jack a quick grin as he waggled his eyebrows, _"Lunchtime doubly so._ Speaking of which, do you have time to grab a bite to eat?"

Jack laughed. "With you? Always." He drained his glass before setting it on the counter. "So, who were you quoting?" he asked as he gestured for the Doctor to lead the way out of the bar.

"Oh, a lovely chap I met at a restaurant once. Douglas Adams, I believe his name was." The Doctor spun around and grabbed Jack's hand seconds before it connected with his arse.

Jack didn't even bother to apologize or pretend his hand had merely slipped, he just brought the clasped hands up, brushing the Doctor's against his lips for a quick kiss. "You said something about being _hungry?"_ he asked, allowing the Doctor to read into his question whatever innuendo he liked.

"Oh, Jack," the Doctor said, an indulgent smile on his face. "No matter what else happens I can always count on the fact that you'll never change."

"Would you really want me to?" Jack opened the door for the Doctor, bathing them both in brilliant sunshine.

Leading the way the Doctor replied, "Absolutely not!"


End file.
